


Liquid Denial

by madamecrimson



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Drunkenness, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Pandemics, Panic Attacks, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamecrimson/pseuds/madamecrimson
Summary: Takes place after the filming of Too Many Spirits, Season 1. When the drunken antics of Ryan and Shane bring out something unexpected, what will this mean for their friendship?
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 14
Kudos: 87





	Liquid Denial

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the extremely talented [uneventfulhouses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uneventfulhouses) for the beta and helping me nudge myself a bit out of my writing rut.

Shane blinks, the world around him spinning in a blur of color and motion. He feels like the ground might be yanked out from under his shoes when something warm and solid presses against his back. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again in an attempt to reorient himself, hearing a soft, familiar voice beside him. 

"Yeah, I know, social distancing, but that won't matter if you get chunks of brain matter all over my parents' lawn." 

The words are joking but Shane can sense the undercurrent of concern in Ryan's voice. He's known him so long and spent so much time around him that every cadence and pitch are archived in the depths of his consciousness. 

They lean against each other as they stagger into the Bergara home. Ryan buries his laugh against Shane's chest, and Shane muffles his giggles into Ryan's hair. The proximity is strictly necessary, of course, so as not to wake Ryan's parents who graciously offered their yard for filming. 

They enter Ryan's room, collapsing onto the bed in a heap, Ryan's arm still secured around Shane's waist. 

Shane knows he should say something, knows that Ryan's arm is probably being crushed under his weight, knows that he shouldn't be allowing himself to lean into his want like this. 

Were he sober, maybe Shane's guilt would be more salient over savoring the feel of Ryan pressed firmly against him, but in the haze of inebriation it seems to evaporate. Ryan's face is so close to his own that Shane can feel the warmth of his exhale, smell the sweetness of a night full of cocktails cradled on his tongue. He's thankful just to be allowed this moment, and then he feels the sudden brush of Ryan's fingers against his skin, sweeping a lock of hair from his eyes. 

"Your hair's gotten so long, man," Ryan comments, and Shane feels like he can't breathe. 

Ryan begins to run his fingers through Shane's hair, and Shane's scalp tingles with every little touch, his face heating at the reverent way Ryan is looking at him. 

Warmth spills into his chest and Shane's eyes fall closed; he's scared of what he might do or say if he gets too overwhelmed. 

The hand in Shane’s hair comes to rest on his cheek, Ryan’s thumb caressing lightly along Shane’s cheekbones and beneath his eyes, as if urging them open. Shane's mouth feels dry but he doesn't move, doesn't pull away, doesn't make some off-handed comment about Ryan's behavior being weird as a means of poorly disguising his fear. 

Ryan's thumb drags down over the side of Shane's face, moving in small circles down to his chin, and Shane's heart hammers in his chest. He's not used to being treated like this, like he's something precious and treasured. Ryan's admiration washes over him in waves, but Shane can still sense the hesitation and fear that lie beneath. 

Ryan's thumb comes to press against his bottom lip and Shane's brain short circuits. 

He immediately presses a kiss to the tip of it without even thinking. He hears Ryan gasp, his eyes blinking open as he watches Ryan’s lips part in surprise. It feels like the world is moving in slow motion because before he can pull away and play things off, Ryan draws Shane flush against him and kisses him hard on the mouth. Shane can't help the moan it draws out of him, his hands scrambling to clutch at the thin fabric of Ryan's t-shirt, kissing him back with just as much intensity.

Ryan's tongue swipes across the seam of Shane’s lips and Shane's mouth parts immediately. Ryan's tongue has barely nudged Shane's, and Shane is already trembling in Ryan's embrace. His hands slip beneath Ryan's shirt, palms roaming over Ryan’s back, and his heart stutters at the way Ryan gasps and presses closer. 

Ryan’s lips move along the length of Shane’s jaw, leaving the gentlest of kisses as he goes, making Shane feel like the air has been punched out of him. When Ryan makes it to his neck, Shane’s fingers grasp at the back of Ryan’s hair and pull his head closer. Ryan shivers, and the tip of his tongue darts out over Shane’s skin. 

Shane’s hips rise off the bed, and Ryan’s sliding on top of him before his brain can even process it. Ryan sucks at Shane’s neck and Shane can’t help the roll of his hips to meet Ryan’s, feeling him just as hard and wanton as Ryan presses back against him. Shane’s fingers are still in Ryan’s hair, curling into the strands and giving a stronger tug this time. Shane’s head presses back into the bed at the vibration of Ryan’s moan buried between the juncture of his neck and shoulder. 

They move together in tandem, thrusting against one another with fevered desperation, as if it’s their last night on Earth. Even in the midst of it all, they still have at least a modicum of decent judgement to ensure they aren’t too loud; but even though Shane can’t fully hear the sounds drawn out of Ryan, he can feel the way his body shudders, taste the soft moans Ryan feeds into his mouth. 

Shane isn’t sure who comes first, but one moment their movements are going hurried and erratic and the next they are laying still and catching their breaths, an uncomfortable stickiness on his thigh. 

They should move. 

Shane’s got his shoes on the bed and Ryan’s still wearing his belt, but to let go of each other now would feel like not being able to breathe. As they come down from the intensity, drowsiness coming on quick and heavy, Shane can feel Ryan kiss his lips softly and he lets himself drown in the feeling. 

***

The bright light of morning pours into the room, and Shane can feel the uncomfortable heat on his face. He’s got a bit of a headache, but all things considered, he’s had worse hangovers. He moves to stand up carefully when he realizes that something is preventing him from doing so. 

He glances down and his heart jumps into his throat. 

Ryan’s arm is slung over him, his cheek pressed to Shane’s chest, his hair a mess, and he’s fast asleep. 

Memories of last night flash through Shane’s mind, and his stomach sours with panic. 

He needs to move. He needs to get the hell out of here. He needs to run away from this and never look back. 

Ryan stirs against him and Shane’s heart feels like it might burst out of his chest. Ryan turns his head slightly, drawing back so that he can fully face Shane. 

The smile Ryan gives him is so earnest and tender and Shane feels like his insides might rip themselves to shreds. 

He hates to do what he does next, but he has to. He can’t afford to risk this all going to shit and lose Ryan forever. 

Shane shuts his eyes heavily before blinking them open, forcing a groggy rasp into his voice. “Hey man, what happened last night?” The words feel foreign on his tongue. 

Ryan’s face falls immediately and Shane feels his heart clench, but he knows this will be for the best. 

“You, uh...you don’t remember?” Ryan asks softly. 

Shane shoves his emotions down deep into their familiar cavern. “Lots and lots of tequila?” 

“That’s it?” Ryan presses. 

“Yeah dude. I don’t think I’ve been that wasted in years,” Shane replies lightly.

He pulls away from Ryan, wrenching himself from the hold of his own heart, and his body immediately aches to be back in Ryan’s arms. He pointedly doesn’t look at Ryan as he puts his ghoul hunting boots back on, his fingers shaking as he fusses with the laces. 

“Thanks for letting me crash here man. I’ll call a Lyft,” Shane mumbles. 

He can feel Ryan staring at him, already knows what his face looks like, tries not to let it destroy him. 

“See ya Monday buddy!” Shane says, rushing outside before Ryan can say anything. 

It takes him several minutes to steady his hands, but he eventually orders the Lyft on his phone and heads home. 

He practically runs up the stairs to his apartment, desperate for familiar surroundings to ground him. Once he’s inside, the tension in his shoulders eases slightly, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He heads to the bathroom and the sight of his own reflection makes him freeze where he stands. 

On the side of his neck is a giant, wine-colored hickey. His fingertips ghost over it and he shoves down the memory of how he got it in the first place. 

He’ll need to stop at the corner drug store tomorrow and pick up some concealer before their shoot. 

Shane blinks, the realization hitting him like a freight train. 

They’re shooting tomorrow. 

Shane quickly shuts off his phone without looking at it. He doesn’t think he can stand Ryan’s weak attempts at subtly in trying to get Shane to talk about this. 

He reasons that he just needs to give it a day, just a little while, and this will blow over and never be talked about again, just like so many of their other borderline not so platonic encounters. 

He turns on the shower and strips off his clothes, trying to ignore the fact that they’d already crossed the line a long time ago, and that this was just a physical manifestation of the proverbial elephant in the room. 

****  
Hickey covered with alabaster concealer, Shane makes his way onto the outdoor Unsolved set. 

He’s a little bit early out of habit, unsurprised to see that most of their crew is already there and that Ryan hasn’t arrived yet. 

Sure, it’s not their book-filled mannequin-guarded Buzzfeed office, and lawn stools and fairy lights don’t exactly go with the show’s normal macabre ambiance; but it has a certain charm, and he knows fans will likely be more focused on the case and his banter with Ryan than anything else. 

Shane begins preparing for the shoot and soon sees Ryan walking onto the set. Shane smiles at him, opens his mouth to greet him, and it’s then that he realizes that Ryan has a measuring tape in his hand. 

Shane blinks in surprise as he watches Ryan move between the chairs, measuring the distance between them. 

“You know Katie already put those six feet apart,” Shane tells him. 

“It always helps to check, in case someone forgets,” Ryan snaps sharply, glaring up at Shane as he retracts the measuring tape. 

Shane’s body freezes. 

Ryan knew. Ryan knew when Shane left yesterday. Shane had been clingining loosely to the hope that he didn’t. 

It would have been at least a little easier if Ryan had only been looking at him in anger, but Shane can see the sting underneath. 

He scrambles for something to say, but he can only stand there staring at Ryan, mouth agape. 

Ryan crosses his arms. “I know you’re a robot, but I didn’t think you were an asshole.” 

Shane feels cold guilt slice through him down to his toes. 

Ryan’s still looking at him and Shane’s brain feels like static. 

Katie tells everyone to get in place and Shane feels a vice clench around his heart as the rest of Ryan’s anger drains out of his body and he slumps down onto his chair. 

The shoot goes surprisingly smoothly for the most part, the rhythm easy to pick up even though they’re in a different location. And if things come out a little stiff and forced then, well, there’s a pandemic going on and a lot can be done through the power of editing. 

The crew packs up for the night, and soon it’s just the two of them, standing in silence on the patio. 

The night is chilly, and even though the crickets begin to chirp, Shane the silence between them is deafening 

“Ryan,” he starts, feeling something in him break when Ryan looks up at Shane like he’s been slapped. 

“Was I really that bad in bed?” Ryan mumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Shane shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly. 

Ryan takes a few steps toward him. “Why did you pretend you didn’t remember?” 

Shane flushes in shame, shrugging his shoulders and dropping his gaze. His mind is spiraling so quickly that he doesn’t notice that Ryan has moved closer until he’s right in front of him. 

This close, he can feel the heat of Ryan’s skin radiating off of him, smell the citrus of his shampoo mixed with whatever cologne he wears. He forces himself to look up at Ryan, and the way Ryan is looking back at him makes his breath catch. 

“Wanna go back to your place?” Ryan murmurs. 

Shane’s nodding his head in agreement before he can even think of saying “no,” before he even has his hands on his keys. 

****

They do end up back at Shane’s apartment, but they’re barely through the door before Shane is pressing Ryan up against it, and Ryan is tugging at Shane’s collar. 

****

Shane wakes up the next morning to the light patter of rain against his window. It’s grey outside but not too dark and he can feel that the air is a little cooler today. 

As the fuzziness of sleep begins to fall away, Shane tenses when he remembers what Ryan and he did last night. He squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his jaw without meaning to, willing all of this to be a dream. 

The warm brush of the backs of Ryan’s knuckles sends waves of goosebumps along his skin, proving that this is all real. 

“You okay?” Ryan asks softly. 

Shane can tell that Ryan knows he isn’t fine, that he’s waiting around calmly for Shane to do something to acknowledge it. 

He sucks in a sharp breath, his mind screaming at him to run, his heart holding him captive, weak to the gentleness of Ryan’s touch. 

“Shane?” Ryan prompts, and Shane can hear the worry creeping into Ryan’s tone. 

“Uh, this...this is probably a bad idea,” Shane replies shakily. 

Ryan props himself up on his elbow to get a better look at Shane, but continues to softly stroke his arm. “Which part?”

“All of it,” Shane whispers, his hands curling into fists by his sides. “You’re...we’re best friends, we have a company together, and if this...blows up in our faces…” 

“It won’t,” Ryan assures him. “I mean, before...that,” he says vaguely, clearing his throat, “I was shitting my pants about it, too. Like, I didn’t even think you wanted me hugging you.” 

Shane fixes his gaze on a tiny mark on the wall.

“But dude, I’ve spent more time with you than anyone else over the last like five years. I know which nail clipper is your favorite and which mug you choose for your morning coffee whenever you stay at my place.” 

“Ryan--” Shane tries. 

“If it was anyone else who was my friend and business partner, I wouldn’t even consider trying it, I wouldn’t want to.” 

Shane’s eyes grow wide and he feels his heart begin to race. 

Ryan must sense this because the next thing he says is, “We don’t have to label this or anything. We can go slow and stuff.” 

“And...what, you’ll date other people in the meantime to make sure you have what you need?!” Shane exclaims. 

Ryan shakes his head. “I wouldn’t date other people.” 

“Why not?” Shane asks, wincing at the way his voice cracks. 

“I don’t want anyone else, Shane,” Ryan tells him earnestly.

Fear pierces through Shane, his body flooding with emotion, and it’s all too much. He leaps to his feet and throws on some clothes, ignoring Ryan’s voice in the background, the way it pleads and breaks for Shane to just _talk_ to him. Shane rushes from his room, slips on his shoes, and heads out the door. 

And then he begins to run. 

He doesn’t know where he’s going, and barely registers the cold wet rain soaking through his t-shirt. He can hear the sound of sneakers on the pavement and he doesn’t even need to look back to know that Ryan is chasing after him. 

Shane’s been jogging a lot lately so his long legs can carry him pretty far, but Ryan has more stamina. They run a few blocks before Shane feels like his lungs are on fire and has to stop. Ryan seizes the opportunity and grasps him around the middle with a bit too much force, knocking them both down onto the sidewalk. 

Shane’s breathing way too fast, the right side of his body feels numb, and he feels everything tightening in and locking up. Ryan maneuvers them both until he lets go of Shane and positions them so that they are facing each other. 

“You’re having a panic attack right now,” Ryan explains. “It’s gonna feel like something awful is happening to your body, but it’s just an extreme reaction, okay?”

Shane nods weakly, trembling where he sits. 

“Can I rub your back?” Ryan offers carefully. 

Shane gives another slight nod. 

He flinches at the initial feel of Ryan’s palm against his back, but soon begins to ease at the gentle, rhythmic motion. 

Shane isn’t sure how long they sit there for, but it feels like awhile, Ryan never letting up. 

“So…” Shane offers awkwardly. 

“So, it’s rainy, it’s cold, and we haven’t even had breakfast yet. Let’s go back to your place,” Ryan suggests, standing to his feet. 

“Yeah...Yeah, okay,” Shane says softly, red rising in his cheeks as he takes the hand Ryan offers to him. 

When they get back to Shane’s apartment, Ryan goes to the kitchen to fix them both some eggs, toast, and coffee, and Shane goes to change out of his damp clothes. When Shane comes out of his room, Ryan is already sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming mug and plate in front of himself, and the same at the place across from him. 

Shane moves to sit down, feeling the aches and exhaustion of the aftermath of his panic attack seeping into his bones. 

They’re both silent for a few minutes, each of them staring down at the steam that curls up from their mugs, no sound in the room save for the ticking of the wall clock. 

Ryan is the first to speak. “Okay, I know you hate this, but we’ve gotta talk about this.” 

Shane hangs his head, giving a resigned nod. 

“I don’t know how you’re...feeling about all of this. I mean, I think I do. I always think I do. But when I ask you if I’m right, you use some sort of...weird Shane magic to change the topic,” Ryan accuses. 

Shane exhales heavily, allowing another nod. 

“So, what is this like a...two night stand, the result of touch starvation in quarantine, something else…?” Ryan presses. 

Shane looks up at him and has to drop his gaze immediately, unable to handle the poorly concealed hope in Ryan’s eyes. He has to force himself to speak. 

“It’s um...we can just…” He sighs. They can’t just forget about it now. Maybe if it had only been the one time they could have written it off as a crazy drunken night, but it’s too late for that. Besides, Ryan hadn’t seemed to be too keen on doing that, and the fact that they had done this a second time, sober, was on both of them. 

“Look,” Ryan continues, and Shane glances up to see a defeat in Ryan’s features that claws at his chest. “If...pretending that these two nights never happened and then just...just moving on with our lives is what it takes for us to stay friends, then I’m fine with that. You’re too important to me. It’s just...I--I can’t do this again Shane. This has to be the last time.” 

Shane squirms uncomfortably at the weight of Ryan’s words, the raw emotionality in his voice. Guilt tears at his insides and feelings that he’d determined to keep locked up forever spill out between them. 

“You’re heroin,” Shane finally says, and Ryan looks up at him as if he’s admitted he believes in demons or something. 

“...Are you a secret Twilight fan?” Ryan inquires. 

Shane frowns in confusion. “What are you talking about?” 

“Nothing important,” Ryan assures him quickly. “Just like...what do you mean?” 

“Well, as you know, my...greatest fear is being injected with heroin before I can stop it so that I’m hooked for life,” Shane clarifies. “And you uh...you injected yourself into my life and I’m...I--I don’t wanna be hooked on my...how I feel towards you. But I...guess I am so.” 

Shane can feel his cheeks burn, entirely unable to look at Ryan. 

“So, you’re comparing our relationship to being injected with a dangerous, addictive drug?” Ryan asks, but there’s a warmth and a fondness in his voice. 

Shane merely shrugs in reply. 

“And you seriously think we’re not past that point already?” Ryan accuses. 

Shane’s eyes shoot up. “Wait what?” 

Ryan smiles at him warmly and Shane feels his breath catch. “You bring me back souvenirs when you travel. You always know my usual orders at restaurants, or can guess what I’ll get if it’s somewhere new. You’re extremely aware of my sleeping habits. Not to mention the tiny little fact that you’re a skeptic who stayed on a ghost hunting show for five years where we were spending nearly all of our time together, to then throw caution and a shitton of money to the wind on starting a company with me where we’d be spending even *more* of our time together, and then decided to create an entire show basically centered around you taking me on fun dates. We’ve basically been going out for years, but like, wearing purity rings this whole time.” 

“Purity rings are just conceptually creepy,” Shane remarks. 

“And heroin isn’t?” Ryan shoots back. 

“Alright, fair play,” Shane concedes. “Ryan if we...if we go any further than this...there’s no coming back from it.” 

“Who says I want to?” Ryan asks and Shane has to fight the anxiety that crawls up his spine. 

“I mean,” Shane says with a gulp, nervously playing with his hair. “If...down the line you decide you don’t want m--don’t want this with me, you--” 

“Okay, I know we’re both self-deprecating neurotic messes here, but I knew since the day after we filmed our first Unsolved episode how I felt about you. I always try to get you all riled up about something just to see how you’ll react and you can’t pretend you don’t do the same to me. I mean, taking that into the bedroom just seems like a natural progression don’t cha think?” Ryan’s lips curl into a playful smirk as he waggles his eyebrows. 

Shane’s cheeks flush and he rolls his eyes. “You’re insufferable.” 

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way, baby!” Ryan gleams. 

Shane can’t hide his smile at just how true that statement is.


End file.
